


It Started With The Whiskey

by LittleSparrow69



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breastplay, F/M, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Genderswap, Groping, Nipple Play, Submissive Dean, girl!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 12:25:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2191773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSparrow69/pseuds/LittleSparrow69
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's wanted to touch her for a long time.  He's had a little too much whiskey and Dean's not wearing nearly enough when it finally happens.  Kinkmeme fill for a prompt asking for girl!Dean and breast play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Started With The Whiskey

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what it is about this pairing, especially with girl Dean, but I find it extremely hot.

Bobby finished off this third tumbler full of whisky as Dean entered the kitchen. It was past midnight. Her hair was mussed and she looked like she'd just woken up. She went straight for the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. He watched her drink, standing in front of the fridge with the door still open. She wore nothing but her panties and a t-shirt that rode just above her belly button, her nips hard in the cool air of the house. 

After her fill Dean turned to make her way back to bed. 

"Come here, girl," Bobby said. 

His voice sounded rough and he could smell the whisky on his breath. 

When she came close he grasped her wrist and tugged her so that she was standing between his legs at the table. It put him at eye level with her breasts and he couldn't help but stare at them. At sixteen years of age the girl had developed quite nicely. Bobby was a tit man, always had been. Oh, he appreciated all that the female form had to offer, but there was nothing quite like a mound of soft flesh in your hand or a hard nipple in your mouth. 

Dean had firm, lovely peach-sized boobs and he'd been dying to touch them. Most days he had the sense to not let his thoughts linger. But in the middle of the night with a few whiskeys into him...his judgment was more than a little clouded by his desire. 

Dean shifted awkwardly. Bobby's eyes flickered to her face. She was more awake now, slightly uneasy as he continued to stare at her. She gasped, eyes widening as the tip of his fingers traced lightly over one of her nipples. He'd touched her without even realizing he'd made the conscious decision to do so.

He held her wrist steady when she would have stepped away. 

Bobby continued to trace the stiff nub poking through the cotton of her shirt. He'd already touched her...may as well go all in. Even now she would never look at him the same again. 

"Uncle Bobby..." her voice was small and uncertain. 

"Hush," he ordered firmly. "I'm not going to hurt you." 

He had no plans of hurting her physically. The part of his mind that knew that it would likely hurt her in other ways shied away from such thoughts. The alcohol making it easier to do so. 

"Don't move." 

Bobby released her wrist and traced the other nub, circling them both with the pad of his fingers. Her breath was uneven, breasts rising and falling as he lightly fondled her nips. He didn't, couldn't look at her face. 

He took her nubs between his thumb and index finger and rolled them gently, the furls hard and tight.   
Dean made a small noise in the back of her throat. Bobby pinched them, not too hard, but enough to get a reaction as Dean whimpered. 

She stiffened as his hands when to the hem of her shirt, but stayed where she was. Slowly, he pushed the material up over the swell of her breasts. 

_Jesus._

Perfect cream colored mounds of firm flesh topped with cherry dark nipples greeted him. They were plump and perky and he had one of them in his mouth before he could register the feel of her nipple against his tongue. Dean squirmed a little then, distress evident in the sound she made. Bobby gripped her hips, holding her steady as he sucked on her tit. 

Fuck. It was just as good as he'd thought it would be. He let his tongue graze her button over and over again, lapping at the tip. He loved the way her body felt. Firm and young, subtly writhing as he stimulated her, breath coming in short, quick puffs of air. 

 

Bobby's hands smoothed from her hips to the full round globes of her bottom, roaming over the panties before slipping beneath and cupping the muscle of her ass. Squeezing and kneading he continued to suckle her young breast, mouthing the tender flesh and occasionally nipping at her nub. He'd wanted to do this for so long and now that he had the opportunity Bobby planned to enjoy it and take full advantage of the opportunity. He knew that it may full well be the only chance he got. 

Sliding his hands a bit lower Bobby lifted her, setting her on the table, rising from his chair as he did so. Pressing forward he released her tit long enough to flatten her against the table, blanketing her smaller form. Pinning her arms above the elbow on either side of her head he gripped the fair skin as gently as he was currently capable of. He avoided meeting her gaze or looking at her face. Instead he looked down at her chest as it heaved. One nipple was wet and slightly darker from his previous ministrations. The other waiting for the same attention. 

Dean's legs dangled off the table below her knee, spread open to accommodate Bobby between them as the man lowered himself to her perky bud. 

He lost track of time as he suckled her, going back and forth between her mounds, ravishing every inch of pale flesh his lips encountered. Dean whimpered and mewled through much of it, Bobby convincing himself that it was because it felt good. The girl was vocal and at some point he started paying attention to the noises she made and the way she breathed. When he was careful and gentle she allowed her body to relax slightly, responding almost helplessly. When he got rough with her tits she stiffened and made less noise. 

When his back started to twinge he planted his hands on either side of her ribs and straightened slightly, looking down at her breasts. They were no longer pale and untouched. Instead the skin was pink from the scrape of his facial hair and there were several small hickeys peppered between both tits, nipples dark and sore looking as the girl took in a deep breath. With effort, Bobby stood. He wanted nothing more than to start all over again, but he restrained himself. 

"Stay there," he ordered roughly, eyes skimming the bruises on the underside of her arms where he'd pinned her. 

Pouring himself another drink he leaned against the counter and just looked at the beautiful body spread out on this table. Dean's face was turned away; otherwise she remained exactly as he'd left her. Her debauched titties were plump and pretty, almost cone-shaped in profile as they pointed at his ceiling. He walked over to her, setting his drink on the table next to her. 

He knew if John ever found out about this he'd never see the girl again. Hell, he'd likely not be seeing much of anything ever again. The man wasn't due back for another two days though...and Dean, well, she was being an obedient little thing. Just like her daddy had taught her. 

Bobby let his fingers trail over the flat of her stomach and felt it dance beneath his touch. Her breath quickened again at his touch and he watched her chest rise and fall. Bobby let the hand on her stomach glide down between her legs and cup her pussy. Dean made another of those quiet noises that could be mistaken for pleasure if one chose to interpret it that way. Her panties were warm and slightly damp. 

 

He slipped beneath the pink cotton with a sigh, parting her slick lips with his middle finger and zeroed in on her clit. Dean cried out, body jerking against the table, but stayed put like he'd ordered. Bobby rubbed lazily at her button and watched her body come alive as she tried not to move. Her hands clenched but she kept them over her head, the muscles in her thighs tensed but she kept them spread. She tossed her head, back arching as he fingered her. Those lovely tits jiggled enticingly and he found himself watching them move as she reacted to his touch so very responsively. 

Dean's eyes were closed, her mouth open, golden strands of hair splayed across the side of her face as her cunt fluttered helplessly against his palm. She made for a pretty picture but Bobby wanted more of a reaction. Shoving his hand deeper into her panties he slid two fingers into the heat of her pussy and used his thumb to graze her clit. The effect was instantaneous, neck and back arching as the trunk of her body thrashed against the table. Mesmerized by her bouncing breasts, Bobby bent at the waist and tongued a nipple as it moved. He rubbed her quicker, harder. She arched sharply with a keen, pushing her sweet titty right into his mouth. 

Bobby groaned like she'd done it on purpose and sucked hard on her nip. Her hips stuttered, voice breathless and high as she contracted around Bobby's fingers, entire body shuddering as she came. He sucked on her, petting her pooch until she lay there limp and panting on the table. 

He turned away from the table with his drink and downed it in one shot, voice rough as he spoke to her. 

"Go to bed," he said. 

He heard the table creak as she slowly levered herself up and eased off the edge. Bobby barely heard the patter of her feet as she fled the room. He was so hard he barely made it to his own room before he got his cock in hand and stroked himself off in an embarrassingly short amount of time. He flopped into his bed with his pants still down around his thighs and promptly passed out. 

The next morning was business as usual. He'd had a little freak out in his head and then decided to just act like nothing had happened. Besides, there was nothing else he could do. He made them pancakes for breakfast, Sammy pleased as punch with the wild blueberries he'd wrestled up. Dean was subdued and kept her distance, dressed in her jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt. He noticed she didn't have on a bra and could imagine how sore her tits were. Bobby took it in stride and outwardly chalked it up to teenager moodiness. If Sam noticed anything was amiss he never showed any sign in Bobby's presence. 

By mid day however he was already getting that itchy urge to touch again. He'd thought that getting it out of his system would satisfy him for a time...but it had only made him want it more. Bobby looked out the window and saw Sam playing fetch with Rumsfeld. The kid could occupy himself for hours out there. He found Dean on the couch watching a movie. She tensed as he approached

He sat next to her on the sofa instead of his usual spot in the recliner, his arm across the back. She attempted to get up once but his hand on her shoulder kept her in place. He wasn't in any hurry. John wasn't due back until tomorrow and he could hear Sammy and Rums rough-housing outside. 

Ever so gradually he let his arm drift down from the back of the sofa until he could slip his hand into the v-neck of her t-shirt and cover her breast. Dean was a stiff as a board sitting next to him but said nothing. Bobby was gentle with her, just holding and randomly kneading the tender flesh. Eventually his other hand slid under her shirt and he found himself with another handful of baby tit. They felt so good in his hands, plump and firm like good melons should be. 

 

By the time he heard the screen door slam he had Dean lying across his lap as his hands moved beneath her shirt. He'd done nothing but fondle those lovely mounds for close to twenty minutes, the feel of her nipple against his palm igniting a slow burn of arousal. He was quick to remove his hands before Sam entered with a Pepsi and plopped down to watch the rest of the movie. Bobby left the two of them to it before he was tempted to violate the girl in front of her brother.

Later that evening Dean washed the dinner dishes as Sammy took his shower. He approached her from behind, ignoring the way she froze when his hands settled on her hips. Bobby slid her shirt up over the warmth of her belly, smoothing his hands over her breasts as he did so until it she was exposed. He tweaked both of her sore nips at the same time, enjoying the gasp that escaped her. 

Reaching around her to the sink he cupped a handful of warm soapy water and dribbled it over her tit. He did the same to the other, repeating the process until her chest was slick and wet, skin slippery as his hands roamed the hills and valley of her torso like they were his to do so. He cradled her boobs, stroking them softly, eyes glued to their reflection in the window. The site of his big hands holding her tender flesh captive would follow him into his dreams for many nights to come. 

He knew her nipples were sore but he couldn’t help himself. Still hefting the weight of her breasts he used his index fingers to graze the tip of her nubs. Bobby pressed her forward into counter as she squirmed, giving her no room to move. When she inevitably arched, Dean pushed all that glorious wet firmness right into his grip. 

“There’s a good girl,” he praised, squeezing her in reward even as he continued to rub at her nips. 

She was panting, head rolling against his chest when the shower shut off up stairs. He held her for a few more minutes and then pulled her shirt down over her damp skin. He stepped back just as Sam came thumping down the stairs, pajamas clinging to him in spots where he didn’t fully dry himself. 

“Looking for a snack, runt?” he asked. 

They chatted for a few as Sam made himself some peanut butter and crackers and then disappeared into the living room. 

"Remember this?" Bobby said quietly do Dean as she finished the few remaining dishes. 

It was an old tank top John had thrown away because Dean wore it all the time. It was old and thin and about two sizes too small. It was soft and threadbare after too many washes. Bobby had fished it out of the trash as soon as the Impala had pulled out of his yard almost a year ago. The girl had had no idea that you could see the dark of her nipples through the fabric or that the swell of her growing breasts were barely contained. He could see why John got rid of it. 

"My room. Midnight."

He left the tank with Dean and didn't touch her for the rest of the night. 

She opened the door to his room at exactly 12:00 slipping in silently. Bobby turned the lamp on next to the bed. He'd been waiting for her. Dean stood awkwardly just inside the door in the ill-fitting white tank and matching white panties. He patted the bed next to him, mouth watering in anticipation as she approached. The material stretched over her mounds, hiding nothing of the bounty beneath. 

 

If he had only one night left with Dean he planned to make the most of it. In for a penny, in for a pound. 

Bobby spread her out on his bed and took his time playing with her titties, sucking and pinching them as she writhed prettily. She let out a shocked cry when he spanked them lightly. He chuckled as he manhandled her up over his chest, the girl looking young and confused as he guided her hips until she straddled his face. He buried his nose in her panties, breathing in her scent as she squirmed above him. 

Blindly he reached for the night stand and the bandana he'd left there, working by touch to secure her hands behind her back. Wrapping his arms around her thighs he shifted pulling her snug against his face, rubbing against her cunt. Gazing upward he took in her flat tummy and the plump and luscious mounds as she moved above him. 

He reached for her nubs, tugging at them lightly until Dean began to whimper and rub against his face. When his arms got tired he pulled her panties aside and tasted her for the first time, tongue wagging into her snatch and parting her lips as she trembled. Dean's mewl was broken and loud as she came without warning, rocking into his face as he suckled her clit. Bobby groaned into her pussy, and held her tight.

Just before dawn Bobby woke from the brief amount of sleep he'd gotten. Dean was partially covered and sprawled across a side of his bed that had been empty for years. The tank she wore was twisted up around her neck, face soft and open in sleep. 

Bobby lapped at her gently, barely wetting her nub, wishing he could wake up every morning with a fresh young tit to put in his mouth. He was patient as he flickered carefully around her furl. She stirred slowly, still more asleep than not as she bit at her lip and arched slightly into the pinprick of pleasure he was offering. By the time he fully enveloped her nub Dean's eyes were fluttering as Bobby cupped her pussy, giving her something to press against as she came. 

The girl pinked almost immediately, turning her head away when she realized she'd responded to him unknowingly

"Get back to your bed," he said when he was done with her. 

It was too early for Sammy to wake but when he did, Dean should be in her own bed so as not to raise questions. 

John was late but he did show. He stayed for lunch and had the kids pack up the car. Bobby felt his heart rate increase as the man looked at Dean curiously, watching her as she walked out the door without so much as her usual hug for Bobby. 

He shrugged. _Teenagers._

John watched her walk to the car but said nothing. He shook Bobby's hand and thanked him before leaving. 

 

3 months later

 

The rumble of the Impala pulled him from beneath the hood of his pick-up. John had called a few days ago to see if he could drop the kids off for a hunt down in Georgia that should take about a week. They'd talked a few times since then on a few cases and with each day that passed Bobby felt himself relax. If Dean had said anything...Bobby would be fertilizer by now. 

Wiping his greasy hands on a rag he met Dean and John by the porch. She wore a pair of denim cut offs and a pale pink t-shirt with no bra. Not that he let his eyes linger, but he couldn't help but fool himself into thinking that it was for his benefit. 

"Where's Sammy?" he asked, looking back towards the Impala. 

"Pastor Jim's," John said. "Youth group camping trip." 

"Ah," Bobby said. "Sounds like fun." 

The anticipation he felt at having Dean to himself for a week had him semi-hard already.

He invited John in for a bit but the hunter declined in favor of heading out immediately. Dean watched him leave, the strap of her duffle over one shoulder. 

Less than twenty minutes later she was spread out on his table again, wrists pinned over her head, a hungry mouth on her tit and a grease stained finger working its way into that tight little ass. 

So soft and pretty the noises she made.

The nipple in his mouth was hard as his tongue flicked it mercilessly. 

Bobby couldn't help but think of the box in the back of his closet. The items he'd ordered over the last few months when it became apparent that John wasn't going to show up with a shotgun full of more than rock salt. 

Clamps. Dildos. Plugs. Restraints. Outfits with cut outs for those lovely breasts and that sweet tasting cunt. 

He looked forward to trying them all. 

End.


End file.
